Oh, The Places You'll Go, Wolfy
by ChristyAnne
Summary: Stanley and Hector are out of Camp, and Hector is living with Stanley and his family. Sometimes Stanley leaves without telling Hector where he is going, and Hector waits for him to come back, worrying that he won't. How can Stanley show Hector that he will always come back? One Shot, characters based off movie apperance. (Please review and please don't mind the errors x !)


The boys had been out of Camp Greenlake for just over two months. Hector, obviously, was living with Stanley in his lavish new house – far too extraordinary a home for him, but one which he appreciated dearly. He wanted to say it was like having a family of his own, but he knew in his heart that Stanley's parents would never be tantamount to his own parents, and he would never regard Stanley as a brother.

Though his life was significantly better, there was still so much missing from it. Some days he could not even pretend he was happy, and he would sleep in the park at night. Stanley would always cover for him, thank God. He was glad his late night escapes did not bother the older boy anymore.

Hector was sitting in his bedroom, reading a book called "Green Eggs and Ham" by a fellow going by the name of Doctor Seuss. Hector had tried reading novels at first, but the words were so small and so plentiful per page, he found it stressful to focus on a paragraph at a time. He thought that telling Stanley would be the most embarrassing part of it all – it wasn't. He physically felt his cheeks catch fire when Stanley had handed him a book called "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" then asked if it was 'suited to his reading level'. Hector pretended he had not enjoyed the story. He was pretending not to enjoy Doctor Seuss books, either.

Stanley had gone out, but he had not said where. Hector cared, and he didn't mind showing it. He didn't want to lose Stanley like he had lost his mom and he wanted Stanley to know that. He wanted to make sure Stanley understood just how important he was. So, on the rare occasion that Stanley did leave without informing Hector beforehand, it vexed him greatly. He hated feeling disgruntled and Stanley knew it, so why did Stanley make him feel that way at all? He buried his nose in the book, distracting himself from his borderline obsession with Stanley and the boy's whereabouts.

Then, he heard the sound of his bedroom door open. Hector practically threw the book across the room in startle.

"Sorry, man!" Stanley laughed, putting down the plastic bag he was holding. Hector, though relieved he was back, was not entirely placated. He still wanted to know where Stanley had gone.

"No problem," he said tensely, picking up his book. Faking a disinterested tone, he asked, "Where'd you go?"

"Out," Stanley said tersely, but happily. Hector breathed out heavily, causing some of the corkscrew curls falling over his forehead to move.

"Why do you always get so _mad _when I go out?" Stanley asked, now sounding a bit more concerned. "You _know_ I just forget to tell you, it's not like I'm… nevermind," he finished quickly. He sat on the bed beside Hector. "Almost done that one?"

"What were you going to say?" Hector asked, looking at Stanley with creased eyebrows.

"Nothing, how's the book?" Stanley persisted. Hector was not having any of it. His eyes narrowed and darkened. Stanley shifted uncomfortably.

"Not like you're what?" Hector asked adamantly, trying to break Stanley under his unyielding glare. "What?"

Stanley took a deep breath and looked to the ceiling, and the sun coming in the window emphasized just how green and beautiful Stanley's eyes were in its light. Hector gulped and held the harsh look on his face, though most of his anger had dissolved upon seeing how sorry Stanley looked. He did not yet know how else to get the answers he wanted besides waiting for them. He did not excel in communication. That might have been one of the reasons why Hector was beside Stanley being upset with him instead of in his arms being upset with him.

"Not like I'm going to leave you," Stanley finally said, and Hector felt something in his stomach collapse. "I know, I'm stupid with words, Hector. I didn't mean it like that."

"No, I know you didn't," Hector said, and he meant it. He wished he wasn't so possessive, but that was just something he could not help being. He could barely remember what loving someone felt like, and Stanley awakened a feeling in him that was so bizarrely and wonderfully familiar, it could have been a form of it. He could not lose him.

"I know you're not going to leave," Hector said after a few seconds of silence. Because he knew he didn't sound confident, he added jokingly, "It's your house."

Stanley smiled, but the smile quickly straightened into an impassive line. Hector eyed him curiously, but he was no longer glaring. "No," Stanley said softly, shaking his head. "I said I wasn't going to leave _you_."

Hector usually was not proud of being black, having grown up in the streets with his race being put down, but in times of bashfulness or humiliation it came in handy. If Stanley could have been able to see him blush, Hector swore he would have gone to sleep in the park.

"Uh, thanks," he muttered, trying to sound emotionless. Desperately needing a subject change, he asked, "What's in the bag?"

Stanley raised an eyebrow. Hector pointed to the bag that had been abandoned on the floor by the doorway. "Oh!" Stanley said, remembering its existence. He leapt off the bed to get it.

"It's for you," he said once back at the bed. "It was a surprise. That's why I left without telling you."

Hector's face broke into a grin, his eyes opened wide. "What is it?" he asked. He had missed out on too many Christmases not be thrilled about receiving presents.

Stanley, his already pink cheeks turning red, pulled out a book. Hector saw the colourful picture on the cover and knew instantly it was another Doctor Seuss book. Scoffing and shooting Stanley what he hoped was a look of irritation, he took the book and examined it more closely.

"Oh, the Places You'll Go," he read aloud. His heart rate quickened. The other books he had read by the same author did not have titles like this. This title sounded discomfortingly personal. He felt an odd spark in his abdomen heat his body. "Thanks."

"I was thinking you could read that one with your tutor," Stanley said, sitting back down. "You know, since it's about accomplishing things and stuff, and she's coming in tomorrow with my tutor so we can both catch up with everything... you know, school and, stuff…"

Hector nodded, but he was not listening. He opened the book and began reading the first page, thus proving that Stanley had been talking to the wall behind him.

"Hey!" he said, snatching the book out of Hector's hands. Hector jaw dropped and he swatted at the book, endeavoring to make Stanley drop it. The boy had the unfair advantage of being prepared though, which Hector had not been prior to the robbery.

"Stop howling, Wolfy," Stanley stuck out his tongue. Hector bit his lips together to keep from smiling. The boys had decided that Stanley was the woodpecker in the song and Hector was the wolf. Hector was positive that Stanley only let Hector be the wolf to aid his pride. It did. Calling Stanley 'Woodpecker' in public and having him react was one of the funniest things ever, especially watching the amused faces of the passersby and the one of ignominy on Stanley's.

"Stop being a prick, Woodpecker," Hector rebutted, climbing on Stanley to reach over his body. Stanley fell and Hector landed on top of him. Stanley stretched his arm as far out as it would go.

"That doesn't even relate to the song," he ridiculed. "Your wittiness needs tweaking, Wolfy."

"I know," Hector gibed, "but you still need to stop being a prick."

"Save the book for your tutor," Stanley said, but trustfully, he handed the book back to Hector. Hector, realizing what position the two boys were in, scrambled off in embarrassment.

Hector stared at the book in his hands, then opened it and started reading it out loud. Stanley yapped at him to stop but Hector silenced him.

"You told me to read this to my tutor," Hector said. Stanley nodded. "Well, you're the best tutor I ever had, doesn't that mean I should read it to you?"

Stanley was dumbfounded for lengthy, comical seconds in Hector's eyes. The younger boy waited patiently for a reaction, tapping his nails on the hardcover book. Finally, Stanley sputtered, "I take it back. Your wittiness is at its peak."

"So are you going to let me?" Hector asked.

Stanley shrugged. "Go for it."

Hector cleared his throat. "Con-grat-u-la-tions, today is your day –"

"I'm not comfy," Stanley yelled suddenly, causing Hector to choke on his speech. He turned his head the taller boy in annoyance.

"Get comfy," he deadpanned. "You have five seconds."

"But how can I get comfy in five seconds?" Stanley demanded. "Give me more time!"

"Four, three," Hector counted down, overly entertained by Stanley's arguments.

"Hector!"

"Two, one – ah!" he gasped. Stanley had taken him in his arms and flung him down onto the bed, so the two were awkwardly spooning through Hectors struggles to move. "What was that for?"

He felt Stanley's forehead touch the back of his neck. "I'm comfy now," he whispered into Hector's neck. Hector shivered.

"Are you teasing me?" he asked vigilantly, unsure how to ask the question. He hoped his yearning desire for Stanley to say no went undetected. His aching need to feel Stanley's lips against his neck was another thing that Hector preferred to stay secreted.

"Definitely," Stanley responded. "Now, get reading."

So, with Stanley grabbing Hector by the waist, Hector's bum above Stanley's groin, he picked up where he left off. "You're off to great places, you're off and away. You have brains in your head, you have feet in your shoes, you can st-steer yourself in any di-re-ction you choose. You're on your own, and you know what you know, and you are the guy who'll de-c-cide where to go. You'll look up and down streets, look 'em over with care…"

Stanley waited for Hector to continue, but the boy's voice was not heard. "What's wrong?" he asked. Hector did not reply.

"Oh…" Stanley thought out loud. "Hector, no, it's just a metaphor – it's a figure of speech. He doesn't really mean streets… I thought…"

Hector closed the book and turned to Stanley. Stanley kept his hands on Hector's waist, but averted his eyes in shame. Hector pressed his forehead up against Stanley's and laughed when the boy looked like a Cyclops. Stanley looked down again, but at least he didn't look as sad.

"How did you find this?" Hector asked, extremely inquisitive. This book somehow described how he hoped his life sounded to other people in what Stanley called a 'metaphor'. That was pretty amazing.

"I, um, it's just Doctor Seuss…" he floundered. Hector laughed again, because now, he knew he had the upper hand.

"You think about me," he stated, not leaving it open for Stanley's opposing. Stanley did not make a sound. "Thank you for doing that."

"It's not my choice," Stanley replied. Hector placed a hand on the boy's chest and felt his heart. It was pounding. "I can never _not_ think about you."

"Stop teasing me now," Hector said, moving his head away. Stanley gripped him tighter.

"Remember last week, when you told me you were gay?" Stanley asked. Hector nodded. "Why didn't you ask me if I was, too?"

Hector flushed. "Because uh," he stuttered, "I… I just really didn't want to hear you say you weren't."

Stanley smiled, both wickedly and joyously. "And you never will."

Hector only had time to wallow in shock for a second before his lips were pressed against Stanley's. His eyes closed. Stanley pulled Hector right up to his body – the boys could not tell whose heart was beating faster. They both hummed simultaneously, beating in a perfect harmony, and with no space to separate them.

They were both hot to the point of burning, but they did not pull away. They could not possibly do so that soon. Their lips moved rhythmically and effortlessly, as if the kiss was long overdue. Thoughts of Camp, God's Thumb, and every swim in Stanley's pool came to mind for both boys, clearing every suspicion as to why they were so prepared for this.

Stanley gripped Hector's untamable hair and tugged on it. Hector groaned, cupping Stanley's face in his hands. Though Hector knew that his own had a far better structure, the feeling of Stanley's jaw beneath the chubbiness of his face was one Hector knew he could get addicted to, and he hoped he would not accidentally start stroking Stanley's face one night in the future at the dinner table.

Stanley pulled away to breathe, and as if he had read Hector's mind earlier, Stanley began kissing gently up the boy's neck.

"You know," he giggled, "I've always thought your skin might taste like caramel. I was so anticipating it."

Hector sighed. "God, you're an idiot, Woodpecker."

"Thanks Wolfy," Stanley responded, kissing him once more. When he sucked, Hector saw stars. "I do admit though, I'm not complaining about the taste I'm getting."

Hector swallowed. "Would you mind letting me have a taste of you?"

Stanley stopped to look Hector straight in the eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Figure it out," Hector growled, shifting down, putting his hands up Stanley's shirt. Stanley threw it over his head and did the same for Hector. Hector laughed, tugging in the hem of Stanley's sweatpants. Stanley bit his lip.

"You're the one with the brains," Stanley moaned. "You tell me."

Hector, unable to pass up the opportunity, said, "No, I'm _giving _the brains."

After a few seconds of hoarse breathing and receiving kisses to his stomach, Stanley said, "Yeah, _completely _forget what I said about your wittiness. You're fine."

Hector yanked Stanley's pants down with his underwear to expose his dick. It was actually hard – harder than Hector knew his own was. His heart leapt in his chest, for it was now confirmed to him that Stanley cared about him the same way he cared about Stanley. He hoped Stanley loved him, but it wasn't the time to ask. Lucky for Hector, he was used to staying quiet.

He licked his hand and began stroking Stanley. Stanley blew out through his lips, and the cold air whooshed through Hectors curls. The boy wished he were just slightly taller, then maybe he could have kissed Stanley while he was getting him off. He settled for kissing his stomach, picking up his pace, and muttering that he loved him.

"Oh God, Hector," Stanley kept saying. "I love you, too."

When Stanley came, it seemed like hours of Hectors hair being pulled and meaningless words spoken had gone by. Hector scooted up so he was at eye-level with Stanley once more and kissed him. Stanley, ostensibly dazed, did not make a huge effort to kiss back, but Hector did not mind doing all the work. He wanted Stanley to know how much he meant to him, after all.

"Thanks for the book," Hector said easily.

"Do you need me to do you, too?" Stanley asked, his eyes closed.

"We have tonight," Hector said, running his fingers through Stanley's hair. "And we're going to have to spill something on your bed so we have an alternate reason to get your mom to wash this…"

"But I've waited for so _long_," Stanley muttered, making no movement to prove he was hankering to touch Hector's dick. His hands stayed in front of him.

"_You've _waited for so long?" Hector admonished. "I liked you the second I saw you!"

Stanley breathily giggled. "Touché, I guess, but I am older and my hormones _are_ crazier than yours."

"Not true," Hector confuted. "I'm a teenager, and once you hit teen-hood, you're just as horny as all the other teenagers. It's a category."

Stanley grabbed Hector in his arms again. "Oh, the places you'll go, Hector Zeroni."

Hector beamed. "Oh, the places you'll take me."

"That's not in the book," Stanley quipped.

"I still have to read it," Hector retorted.

"Don't let me stop you," Stanley said.

Hector opened the book. "About some you will say, 'I don't choose to go there.' With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street. Ha!" Hector sniggered. "Not you though, right Stanley?"

"I was supposed to go down that street," Stanley ascertained, "it was destiny."

"How the hell did we not fuck on that rock?"

"We hadn't brushed our teeth in four days?"

"Yeah, maybe that's a factor."

Stanley kissed Hector's neck and pulled him close again, restricting the movement of Hector's arms, but he turned the pages through his struggle.

"You're off to great places, today is your day, your mountain is waiting, so get on your way," Hector finished the book. He heard Stanley's steady breath.

"Goodnight, Woodpecker," Hector whispered, the sun still shining in through the window.

"Night, Wolfy," Stanley slurred.

"I can't promise you I won't howl tonight, Woody," Hector said, trying to get that comment in before Stanley drifted off.

Stanley only laughed. "If only you were sane, Wolfy," he said. "If only, if only."


End file.
